THERE was once on a time a King who
had a wife with golden hair, and she was so beautiful that her equal was
not to be found on earth. It came to pass that she lay ill, and as she
felt that she must soon die, she called the King and said, "If thou
wishest to marry again after my death, take no one who is not quite as
beautiful as I am, and who has not just such golden hair as I have: this
thou must promise me." And after the King had promised her this she
closed her eyes and died.

For a long time the King could not be comforted,
and had no thought of taking another wife. At length his councillors said,
"There is no help for it, the King must marry again, that we may
have a Queen." And now messengers were sent about far and wide, to
seek a bride who equalled the late Queen in beauty. In the whole world,
however, none was to be found, and even if one had been found, still there
would have been no one who had such golden hair. So the messengers came
home as they went.

Now the King had a daughter, who was just as beautiful
as her dead mother, and had the same golden hair. When she was grown up
the King looked at her one day, and saw that in every respect she was
like his late wife, and suddenly felt a violent love for her. Then he
spake to his councillors, "I will marry my daughter, for she is the
counterpart of my late wife, otherwise I can find no bride who resembles
her." When the councillors heard that, they were shocked, and said,
"God has forbidden a father to marry his daughter, no good can come
from such a crime, and the kingdom will be involved in the ruin."

The daughter was still more shocked when she became aware
of her father's resolution, but hoped to turn him from his design. Then
she said to him, "Before I fulfil your wish, I must have three dresses,
one as golden as the sun, one as silvery as the moon, and one as bright
as the stars; besides this, I wish for a mantle of a thousand different
kinds of fur and hair joined together, and one of every kind of animal
in your kingdom must give a piece of his skin for it." But she thought,
"To get that will be quite impossible, and thus I shall divert my
father from his wicked intentions." The King, however, did not give
it up, and the cleverest maidens in his kingdom had to weave the three
dresses, one as golden as the sun, one as silvery as the moon, and one
as bright as the stars, and his huntsmen had to catch one of every kind
of animal in the whole of his kingdom, and take from it a piece of its
skin, and out of these was made a mantle of a thousand different kinds
of fur. At length, when all was ready, the King caused the mantle to be
brought, spread it out before her, and said, "The wedding shall be
to-morrow."

When, therefore, the King's daughter saw that there was
no longer any hope of turning her father's heart, she resolved to run
away from him. In the night whilst every one was asleep, she got up, and
took three different things from her treasures, a golden ring, a golden
spinning-wheel, and a golden reel. The three dresses of the sun, moon,
and stars she put into a nutshell, put on her mantle of all kinds of fur,
and blackened her face and hands with soot. Then she commended herself
to God, and went away, and walked the whole night until she reached a
great forest. And as she was tired, she got into a hollow tree, and fell
asleep.

The sun rose, and she slept on, and she was still sleeping
when it was full day. Then it so happened that the King to whom this forest
belonged, was hunting in it. When his dogs came to the tree, they sniffed,
and ran barking round about it. The King said to the huntsmen, "Just
see what kind of wild beast has hidden itself in there." The huntsmen
obeyed his order, and when they came back they said, "A wondrous
beast is lying in the hollow tree; we have never before seen one like
it. Its skin is fur of a thousand different kinds, but it is lying asleep."
Said the King, "See if you can catch it alive, and then fasten it
to the carriage, and we will take it with us." When the huntsmen
laid hold of the maiden, she awoke full of terror, and cried to them,
"I am a poor child, deserted by father and mother; have pity on me,
and take me with you." Then said they, "Allerleirauh, thou wilt
be useful in the kitchen, come with us, and thou canst sweep up the ashes."
So they put her in the carriage, and took her home to the royal palace.
There they pointed out to her a closet under the stairs, where no daylight
entered, and said, "Hairy animal, there canst thou live and sleep."
Then she was sent into the kitchen, and there she carried wood and water,
swept the hearth, plucked the fowls, picked the vegetables, raked the
ashes, and did all the dirty work.

Allerleirauh lived there for a long time in great wretchedness.
Alas, fair princess, what is to become of thee now! It happened, however,
that one day a feast was held in the palace, and she said to the cook,
"May I go up-stairs for a while, and look on? I will place myself
outside the door." The cook answered, "Yes, go, but you must
be back here in half-an-hour to sweep the hearth." Then she took
her oil-lamp, went into her den, put off her fur-dress, and washed the
soot off her face and hands, so that her full beauty once more came to
light. And she opened the nut, and took out her dress which shone like
the sun, and when she had done that she went up to the festival, and every
one made way for her, for no one knew her, and thought no otherwise than
that she was a king's daughter. The King came to meet her, gave his hand
to her, and danced with her, and thought in his heart, "My eyes have
never yet seen any one so beautiful!" When the dance was over she
curtsied, and when the King looked round again she had vanished, and none
knew whither. The guards who stood outside the palace were called and
questioned, but no one had seen her.

She had, however, run into her little den, had quickly
taken off her dress, made her face and hands black again, put on the fur-mantle,
and again was Allerleirauh. And now when she went into the kitchen, and
was about to get to her work and sweep up the ashes, the cook said, "Leave
that alone till morning, and make me the soup for the King; I, too, will
go upstairs awhile, and take a look; but let no hairs fall in, or in future
thou shalt have nothing to eat." So the cook went away, and Allerleirauh
made the soup for the king, and made bread soup and the best she could,
and when it was ready she fetched her golden ring from her little den,
and put it in the bowl in which the soup was served. When the dancing
was over, the King had his soup brought and ate it, and he liked it so
much that it seemed to him he had never tasted better. But when he came
to the bottom of the bowl, he saw a golden ring lying, and could not conceive
how it could have got there. Then he ordered the cook to appear before
him. The cook was terrified when he heard the order, and said to Allerleirauh,
"Thou hast certainly let a hair fall into the soup, and if thou hast,
thou shalt be beaten for it." When he came before the King the latter
asked who had made the soup? The cook replied, "I made it."
But the King said, "That is not true, for it was much better than
usual, and cooked differently." He answered, "I must acknowledge
that I did not make it, it was made by the rough animal." The King
said, "Go and bid it come up here."

When Allerleirauh came, the King said, "Who art thou?"
"I am a poor girl who no longer has any father or mother." He
asked further, "Of what use art thou in my palace?" She answered,
"I am good for nothing but to have boots thrown at my head."
He continued, "Where didst thou get the ring which was in the soup?"
She answered, "I know nothing about the ring." So the King could
learn nothing, and had to send her away again.

After a while, there was another festival, and then, as
before, Allerleirauh begged the cook for leave to go and look on. He answered,
"Yes, but come back again in half-an-hour, and make the King the
bread soup which he so much likes." Then she ran into her den, washed
herself quickly, and took out of the nut the dress which was as silvery
as the moon, and put it on. Then she went up and was like a princess,
and the King stepped forward to meet her, and rejoiced to see her once
more, and as the dance was just beginning they danced it together. But
when it was ended, she again disappeared so quickly that the King could
not observe where she went. She, however, sprang into her den, and once
more made herself a hairy animal, and went into the kitchen to prepare
the bread soup. When the cook had gone up-stairs, she fetched the little
golden spinning-wheel, and put it in the bowl so that the soup covered
it. Then it was taken to the King, who ate it, and liked it as much as
before, and had the cook brought, who this time likewise was forced to
confess that Allerleirauh had prepared the soup. Allerleirauh again came
before the King, but she answered that she was good for nothing else but
to have boots thrown at her head, and that she knew nothing at all about
the little golden spinning-wheel.

When, for the third time, the King held a festival, all
happened just as it had done before. The cook said, "Faith rough-skin,
thou art a witch, and always puttest something in the soup which makes
it so good that the King likes it better than that which I cook,"
but as she begged so hard, he let her go up at the appointed time. And
now she put on the dress which shone like the stars, and thus entered
the hall. Again the King danced with the beautiful maiden, and thought
that she never yet had been so beautiful. And whilst she was dancing,
he contrived, without her noticing it, to slip a golden ring on her finger,
and he had given orders that the dance should last a very long time. When
it was ended, he wanted to hold her fast by her hands, but she tore herself
loose, and sprang away so quickly through the crowd that she vanished
from his sight. She ran as fast as she could into her den beneath the
stairs, but as she had been too long, and had stayed more than half-an-hour
she could not take off her pretty dress, but only threw over it her fur-mantle,
and in her haste she did not make herself quite black, but one finger
remained white. Then Allerleirauh ran into the kitchen, and cooked the
bread soup for the King, and as the cook was away, put her golden reel
into it. When the King found the reel at the bottom of it, he caused Allerleirauh
to be summoned, and then he espied the white finger, and saw the ring
which he had put on it during the dance. Then he grasped her by the hand,
and held her fast, and when she wanted to release herself and run away,
her mantle of fur opened a little, and the star-dress shone forth. The
King clutched the mantle and tore it off. Then her golden hair shone forth,
and she stood there in full splendour, and could no longer hide herself.
And when she had washed the soot and ashes from her face, she was more
beautiful than anyone who had ever been seen on earth. But the King said,
"Thou art my dear bride, and we will never more part from each other."
Thereupon the marriage was solemnized, and they lived happily until their
death.

Consists of stories from Hesse and Paderborn;
the last varies in some particulars. The maiden puts the mantle of all
kinds of fur- on which moss or whatever else she can pick up in the forest
is sewn-over the three bright dresses, and escapes into the forest. Then,
for fear of the wild beasts, she climbs up a high tree, and sleeps, resting
on the branches. In the morning some wood-cutters come to get wood for
the King's court; they cut down the tree on which Allerleirauh is still
sleeping, but it falls slowly, so she is not hurt. She awakes in a fright,
but when she sees that she is among kind people she begs them to take
her away with them. "Yes," they say; "get into the wood-cart
there, hairy animal." They drive to the King's court, and she serves
in the kitchen. As she has made some very good soup, the King sends for
her, and says, "Thou art indeed a pretty child; come and seat thyself
on my chair." Then he lays his head on her lap, and says, "Comb
my hair a little." She does it, and henceforth has to do it every
noon. One day while she is doing it he sees her shining star-dress glittering
through the sleeve of her mantle, and tears it off; there she stands as
the most beautiful princess in the world. According to a third story,
from the neighbourhood of Paderborn, Allerleirauh pretends to be dumb.
The King one day strikes her with the whip, and the fur-mantle is torn,
and the gold dress shines thro it. The King makes the rent larger, and
she is discovered. The punishment of the father, too, follows in both
stories. He himself has to pronounce the sentence that he does not deserve
to be King any longer. A fourth story begins differently. Allerleirauh
is driven away by a step-mother because a foreign prince has given a betrothal
ring to her and not to the step-mother's daughter. Afterwards Allerleirauh
arrives at the court of her lover, does menial work, and cleans his shoes,
but is discovered, as she lays the betrothal ring among the white bread,
as in another saga it is put in the strong broth. (Musäus, 2, 188.)
When the King will marry no girl whose hair is not like that of the dead
Queen, we are reminded of an incident in the Färöische Sage,
where the bereaved King will marry no one whom the dead Queen's clothes
do not fit. Sagabibliothek, 2,481. There is a very flat version
of the story in one from the Zillerthal, Zingerle, p. 231. Compare No.
48 in Meier, and No. 10 in Pröhle's Märchen für die
Jugend. The story has some affinity to that of Aschenputtel,
and Perrault's Peau d'Ane
belongs to this group; so does the story of Doralice
in Straparola (1. 4), especially the beginning of it. In the Pentamerone
see The She-bear
(2. 6). In Wallachian, The Emperor's Daughter in the Pig-stye,
No 3 in Schott.